Guilty Pleasures
by Quicksliver
Summary: A series of Dabbles about the guilty pleasures of Torchwood. Some funny, some angst, some just crack to the extreme. Please read the warnings above each chapter.
1. Toshiko Sato

Toshiko had a weakness.

It had been there since she was a child and her grandfather, a wise and wrinkled old man who would travel all the was from Japan to see his three grandchildren on Christmas, would press a tiny gold-wrapped sphere into the palm of her hand and tip her a knowing wink. The man who would speak to her in only Japanese so she would learn quickly. His upturned eyes filled with amusement, his quick smile.

Those days were some of her best. She carried that natural shyness that small girls with pretty faces do all the way to adulthood, which was not a good thing. But her grandfather, the most constant man in her life after her father died, had given her something different to bring with her to adolescence and beyond.

Chocolate truffles.

In Tosh's flat, under the bed on the side she slept on, a box of truffles would sit apprehensively. Sometimes unopened, other times half done, still others in a perpetual state of near-emptiness. That box was never absent, however, and never completely empty.

An expensive weakness that didn't really matter because she had no one to spend money on anyway. Why not give herself a small, constant treat? Not like she didn't deserve it.

And it wasn't like she would pop one in her mouth every day. She had one of her truffles, her secret delight, after a particularly nasty day at work. After a particularly scathing comment from Owen. Sometimes after a night of watching them all have fun and joke while she sat on the outside, fiddling with her computer, maybe giving Ianto a casual glance and smiling when he dramatically rolled his eyes.

The warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, the endorphins flowing though her veins like alcohol, numbing and comforting at the same time. The slow melting in her mouth and the velvety texture coating her tongue. It made her relax just thinking about it.

And when Christmas came around, along with the annual name draw, she had of course pulled the trickiest name there. Jack.

So while she pondered how to get something for the man who had everything and she played with the scrap of paper that bore his name until it was worn through in places, she didn't even begin to think who would have her name.

When Christmas rolled around, she handed over the wrapped box (which held a sparkling sliver pocket chain, something old-fashioned enough to go with Jack's wardrobe but new enough that it showed she had made an effort) it had been a freeing experience. And then she saw it, sitting innocently on her desk.

A golden box wrapped in only a silver bow, a box that she recognised from countless trips to the store and so many dollars spent. A box her beloved grandfather had left on the mantel after he left to return home, despite her mother's protests (Albeit, half-hearted protests). A box of her truffles.

She approached the desk with quick, excited steps. Her tongue darted out over her lips, leaving a thin layer of moisture in its wake. She picked up the box in both hands and stared at the ornate bow.

A card was tucked lightly into the side of the bow, and she pulled it out slowly. It was heavy, official stationary, and lazy cursive writing etched into her mind the point. Someone knew. Someone cared enough to know.

_- I was wondering what I could possibly get you. Forgive me for spying?_

_-Ianto_

A grin broke over her face, happiness welling up inside her. When she turned her head to see where the Welshman was, she caught his gaze, his posture relaxed against the pillar he was leaning on. Typical suit with a ridiculous tie. Bright green with tiny reindeer whose noses' flashed red.

Tosh placed the card and box on the ground, and then wrapped her arms around Ianto with genuine glee. He smiled graciously at her.

"I'm glad you like them."

She returned to her desk, for once ignoring the whirring programs and bleeping machines, slid the bow off the box and opened it. The golden wrappers shone up at her, beckoning silently.

She picked one up, turned back to her friend. Two outsiders with common denominators. Two people who passed each other every day but were still strangers. And she vowed to fix that.

Toshiko pressed the tiny sphere into the palm of his hand, feeling so much like her grandfather, and nodded her thanks.


	2. Jack Harkness

Authors note-

So, I totally spaced and forgot to add this on my first chapter. Ha. Whoops!

Okay, so there are multiple pairings involved in this series. None of these stories are connected in any way. Spoilers for each will be posted on the top, along with any warnings I may have for you (Gwen-bashing, for instance). Some pleasures will have nothing to do with the team, others will have brief mentions. These pleasures can be any thing, one or place, so if you have an idea feel free to leave it for me in a review or PM. More then likely I'll use it. :)

This entire story is dedicated to Katie P, my fabulous beta and newfound brain twin.

* * *

Title: Guilty Pleasures-Jack  
Rating: T -For some sexual conduct but nothing really graphic. Come on people, It's Jack :P  
Pairing: Janto (Jack/Ianto)  
Spoilers: None that I can see...

* * *

Jack never would've admitted his personal vice if Ianto hadn't caught him at it.

Jack had come down with the flu (because, apparently he did get sick and just hadn't in a long time), but according to Owen it was nothing serious ("Might as well be a bloody head cold, no need to be such a pounce!").

So Ianto had driven him home and stuck him on the couch with a duvet, bowl of soup and box of salted top crackers; along with a stern warning that if he got up for any reason besides bathroom and more soup he would personally kick some American arse.

After telling Jack that no, he did _not_ mean it in any sort of sexual way, he drove back to the hub and went back to work in the archives. He was, surprisingly, almost finished sorting them all. The next thing he had to do was scan them all into the computer so everything was updated. He could see more frustrating days ahead.

The only upside was that he was certain Jack wasn't bored by himself at home, because he had stopped by a video store before forcibly shoving the other man into his flat and giving him free reign. _Die Hard_, _The Godfather_, _Shooter_ and _Tropic Thunder _were the films he had chosen to watch during his sick day_. _All movies that practically screamed 'I have a penis!'

Ianto had taken _Charmed_ season one and _Sex and the City: The Movie. _It made him smile when Jack picked up the _Charmed_ season and read the back, looking interested but sniffling all the while.

The archivist went back at lunch to check on his lover, enjoying a bowl of soup with him while sitting on the couch with a brown-haired head in his lap. They watched about twenty minutes of _Shooter_ (which was just enough to make Ianto confused), and then Ianto went back to work.

It was half past two when he finished up the last communiqué to U.N.I.T. with an overdramatic stroke of his pen. Sitting at his desk in the tourist office and staring at the backlog of work he could do. It was a good thing the rest of the team thought that his lying career ended with Lisa.

He pressed the side of his comm link.

"Owen? Listen, I've finished everything up here, I think I'm going to go home early."

"Yeah, whatever."

So he grabbed his stuff and headed out the door to his car. And so what if he was carrying a stack of unfinished papers in his laptop bag, he might as well have something to while Jack slumbered away on the couch.

When he got home he tried to unlock the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake up his lover. But when he peeked his head past the door the T.V. was on, loud and…

Wait.

Dramatic music that sounded vaguely like a flute was playing from the other room, just beyond the divider of the hallway and the living room. Now, as Ianto was also a male he had seen all of the movies Jack had chosen, and he was pretty sure a flute was not in any of them.

Then again, when he had watched them it had been during a slightly drunken night alone with a bottle of red wine in one hand and tub of Ben and Jerry's Triple Chocolate Fudge Explosion in the other. His memory may be a bit off.

So he snuck around the barrier and stared at the sight before him.

Jack, lying on the couch covered in blankets, tissue and cracker crumbs scattered around him. The thin boxes that held the movies Ianto had rented sat on the table next to an empty soup bowl, the only one touched being _Shooter_.

On the screen of his luxurious T.V. was a woman with windswept blond hair highlighted with honey streaks, standing in front of an older man who looked a bit like Tom Cruise except more wooden. Her eyes teemed with tears, her body leaning towards his slightly. They both looked incredibly melodramatic. The music swelled.

"_Charlie. I… I can't. Mike has to believe the baby's his!" _The woman flipped her hair dramatically, stepping away from 'Charlie' with a heartbroken look on her face.

"_Baby, you can live with me. I can take care of us."_ Charlie walked closer, his hands gripping her forearms. _"Just because we're twins doesn't mean Mike and I are the same!"_

_"It was one stupid night. Because of Paris and wine. There's nothing-"_

He shook her. Her face became livid and one perfectly manicured hand flew up. The resulting slap had a very cheesy sound effect, but to Charlie's credit he didn't let go.

They stood there, both staring at each other, their breathing rapid. The sexual tension bubbled between them.

"Dammit, Clarissa, kiss him already!" Jack's voice rose above the music, and Ianto felt a strange feeling tension in his chest. He had never tried so hard to hold back hysterical laughter. Soap operas. Jack. Watched. Soap. Operas.

At that moment Clarissa and Charlie's mouths connected in a badly-portrayed searing kiss, tiny moans flirting though the speakers, and Jack muttered, 'About damn time."

Captian Jack Harkness- Daytime Television


	3. Gwen Cooper

Rating: Urgh…. M? Sexual content and swearing.

Warnings: MAJOR. GWEN. BASHING. And I mean hardcore people. I wrote this right after watching 'Something Borrowed' and was seething over it, so I wrote this up during my rage.

Pairings: Gwack (Gwen/Jack), Gwen/Owen, Gwen/Ianto, Gwen/Rhys, Owen/Diane, Jack/Ianto

Spoilers: Right up until 'Something Borrowed'

* * *

Gwen loved this thrill.

She was close to Jack, her lips practically touching his. The dress of shining fabric rustled lightly with the tiny movement. The lights brought out the soft curve of his face. Those lips that led to mouth-watering smiles, his downcast eyes staring at her in that shining stare that screamed arousal. Her lips still tingled from where his finger had brushed them. She was about to be wed, and suddenly the highest ecstasy she could imagine was sleeping with Jack seconds before she said 'I do'. He could ditch Ianto easily; she could sneak around behind Rhys's back just as easily. It wasn't like she hadn't done it before.

Her heart pounded. She wanted his hand to grab her waist; she wanted his lips on hers-

And then it turned out that he was a shape-shifting alien who wanted to rip into her stomach and pull out its unborn child.

After the wedding, when lying next to Rhys while he was sleeping off their first honeymoon shag as a married couple, she reflected.

When Jack's lips had been about to touch hers she had felt so alive. The feeling in her blood was more then lust; it was demanding desire. Fingernails scraping at the inside of her skin and setting her on fire.

But it wasn't just Jack. No, he was the one who made her shiver, but initially it had been Owen.

Owen Harper, the man who had shown her things she'd never imagined. The ecstasy of sneaking around behind the backs of everyone, even Jack. The clutching hands and desperate need, fucking up against the glass of his apartment window and knowing that anyone with a well-placed telescope could see them.

Wanting to be seen.

He had been an asshole and a sweetheart, a lover and someone she wanted to punch. Had punched, actually. But seconds after her fist had made contact he had shoved her against the wall and taken her in an alleyway. Something she had only ever seen in films, and yet it had been so good. Rough and hard, stunningly public and yet more intimate then she had ever felt. The smells of pavement and early morning with a tinge of smoke from the club they'd met in.

And from that moment on, she had been addicted. Until Jack (who may have known longer then she thought) asked her about it. He had told her outright that he didn't approve, but couldn't stop her. And that's when the shame flooded in, like a tidal wave.

But a few hours with Owen made that feeling disappear.

Soon though, she felt the guilt all the time. Shopping for groceries and picking up something Rhys loved to surprise him reminded her of Owen's tongue on her skin. Watching a movie with him in a dark theatre brought a flashback of giving him a blowjob during _1408 _because the screams from the movie covered over his moans. Sitting at home on their couch made her want to run to Owen's bed.

And for a while that was okay.

But then Diane happened.

Suddenly he didn't want her. He didn't even mention that he was in love with Diane to Gwen, and hearing it from Tosh made it hurt all the more. The demure little woman with no real backbone seemed to know more about her lovers' personal life then she did. So she asked him why they kept up with this, expecting an argument and then some hot sex. But he had surprised her.

He hadn't gotten truly angry, just… ended it. One sentence. And she was confused, because that wasn't how things normally went between them. So she kicked him out of the car and forced him to walk back to the Hub. She cried the entire time.

Then Jack had left. First he had died, and then he had left. After she spent all that time sitting next to his cold body, pacing back and forth, talking to him. She deserved more then a thank you, she deserved what she wanted. Which was him.

But then he got up, and instead of sweeping her into a mouth-watering kiss he melded his lips against Ianto's!

Shock was not the word for what she experienced.

And then he left. No warnings, no goodbye. Just… gone. And her heart broke a little. She used her natural leadership to take over in his absence, all the while praying that he would come back to her and see that she could lead just as well as he could, that she could be his equal.

She had another round of sex with Owen, just twice. It was really their official break-up sex. Then Rhys proposed to her, and the night after she got rip-roaring drunk and ended up at Ianto's front door. She saw him as having something she didn't. Ianto Jones had shagged Jack. Ianto Jones was the last person Jack kissed. She wondered if having Ianto would be like having her absent boss.

But he refused. Sent her on her way by paying the cabbie before they left and telling him that he could keep the change so long as he didn't pay attention to a thing she said. Including a change of directions.

Jack came back. But with him came John. John Hart. And because she'd been stupid and not taken off the damn ring she'd been given a kiss on the cheek and a congratulation.

Gwe Coop- Eh...Williams- Cheating


	4. Ianto Jones

**This chapter is dedicated to all of you who have been reviewing. Thank you so much! You make this all worth doing.  
Also, another huge shout out to Katie! People, if she were not around then you would have no story.

* * *

**Rating: T- Mostly for language, a little mention of a sexual situation.  
Warnings: Asshole!Owen, some OOC.  
Pairings: Jack/Ianto  
Spoilers: Sometime after 'They keep killing Suzie', because Jack and Ianto are…Together?

* * *

He would never admit it to anyone. Never. It was bad enough that he got teased and taunted by Owen for any manner of things; this would cause him hours of amusement that Ianto Jones would have to listen to.

It really wasn't a big deal for him, but he kept this secret all the same. Jack knew, but only because he had walked into the hub one night while Ianto was 'Rocking out'. Of course, in this case, Rocking out meant perfectly copying choreographed dance moves while his jacket and tie lay draped over Toshiko's desk chair. But really, that was just a technicality.

Sometimes he would turn on his CD player first thing in the morning to wake Jack up, because the speakers were in the bedroom and it was the best way of getting his (Lover? Boyfriend? Quick shag?) Boss out of bed. He'd stagger from the bedroom, often naked, with his hands clamped over his ears.

"Is that really necessary?" He'd scream.

Ianto would just continue lip-syncing the words, sometimes throwing a hip thrust in just to make Jack perk up. Which he would. In a couple of ways.

Toshiko discovered it when the two of them went out for a drink and she sat there and sang every single word to one of their lesser-known songs, then looked over and saw her dark-haired friend doing the same. They had come out to each other as fans after the song was done, and then lamented that they were, indeed, complete five-year-old girls.

So he had two allies to prevent Owen from finding out. A forgotten CD case was laughed off as a gag gift for Christmas when Owen picked it up. When his phone rang and a song from their second CD floated out of the tinny speakers Jack said that Ianto owed him some money, even if it was his joke. The two of them tried their hardest to prevent Owen from discovering his…affliction? But they all knew it was bound to happen sooner or later.

It was a Friday, which made it a little easier because that meant he wouldn't have to deal with Owen for a whole weekend. He had asked for it off. There was the downside that now the asshole doctor would have two days to figure out more insults and he would get an onslaught on Monday, but at least he'd have some time to prepare.

It had started off innocently enough. Owen was working on a new alien, one that had a strange mind-ability and some sort of spongy circle on his back. Ianto was assisting him, decked out in a surgical coat and gloves, holding out instruments for the other man with bored efficiency.

Suddenly the spongy circle started to vibrate in brief pulses, and seconds later N*SYNC began blasting out of it at a volume that rivalled the sound of a jet plane takeoff. 'No strings Attached'. Which was currently the song that had been playing out in Ianto's head.

Owen tried everything. He stabbed the 'Speaker', shot at it, cursed until his face was blue, drove a scalpel through the creature's lifeless eye and threw a medical journal at it. Nothing was working. Now the song was 'Bye Bye Bye', which was the one Jack had caught Ianto dancing to, and Owen looked like he was tempted to stab _Ianto_ in the eye to make it stop.

"WHAT THE BLOODY, FUCKING HELL TEABOY?!?!?!?!" The Londoner screamed over the music, and Jack's laughing could be heard from above. Ianto shrugged, face beet red. He was the human tomato, everyone line up and take a look.

The entire team besides Owen and Ianto were in fits of hilarity, all trying their hardest not to burst. Gwen was standing with Jack, her adorable gap-toothed smile beyond normal. Her cheeks seemed to be frozen in place, face red from lack of air. Jack had tears flowing over his cheeks like a waterfall. Tosh was sitting on the floor in fits of hysterical giggles, hands curled around her sides. It was nice to see her laughing so hard.

Ianto couldn't help it. Besides the red tinge flowing over his neck he was giggling to himself. God forbid the alien link minds with Tosh or Owen before Jack shot it in the face, nope. It had to see Ianto before it died. Apparently this species had a residual telekinetic link. It also communicated by using the spongy part on it's back, which replicated sounds at a high volume to help others understand if it got the message a bit wrong.

It was the alien equivalent of screaming at someone who didn't speak English like they were deaf.

Jack was now on the floor next to Tosh, holding his knees to his chest and gasping for air. He looked like he was in pain. The song switched again 'Tearing up my heart'.

_It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you  
But when we are apart, I feel it too  
And no matter what I do, I feel the pain  
with or without you _

_Baby I don't understand  
Just why we can't be lovers  
Things are getting out of hand  
Trying too much, but baby we can't win_

"THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE IANTO!" Owen's hands were over his ears, his face murderous.

Seconds later 'THINK OF SOMETHING ELSE IANTO!' Blasted through the single speaker, and Owen fell over.

Ianto Jones- N*SYNC (....Sigh.)


	5. Owen Harper

**Rating: T- sexual Situations  
Warnings: Asshole!Owen, some OOC, Twilight Bashing.  
Pairings: Owen/Gwen  
Spoilers: if You're spoiled for Countryside and 'Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang.' Not to mention the Twilight Saga, then go ahead and read on.**

* * *

He knew it was wrong for a grown man to do, but he couldn't help it.

Doctor Owen Harper could not stem the tide of love for…. _them_. But no, he didn't love them. It was all a manner of circumstance.

It was all Gwen's fault. She had walked in one morning with a mysterious bulge sticking out of the front of her bag, humming to herself. And once he was done looking at those legs and imagining what he'd be doing to her later he asked what was on his mind.

"Gwen, what the hell is that?" He was sitting at his station, ignoring Jack's disapproving gaze with well-practiced smugness. Gwen grinned at him lightly.

"What?" Those doe eyes stared at him innocently. She was a deer, and in his mind, he was the wolf. Rhys was the pack member with a bum leg.

He pushed himself across the floor, chair wheels rattling as it went off cracks in the concrete. He snagged the bag from where she had dropped it on the desk and pulled out the object with a flourish, ignoring her lunge and flailing hands.

"Oh, god. Are you a _complete_ teenage girl?" He stared at the glossy black paper, the pale arms on the front, and burst into laughter. Gwen flushed with embarrassment and took it back with an angry yank, shoving it back into her bag.

"Shut it, Owen." She spat, plopping into her chair with a sullen look. Toshiko looked over for a moment before going back to her computer, her eyes filled with a particularly glittery look. She'd been on the verge of tears almost constantly since Jack sent her little girlfriend to the sun. He tried to keep his distance, but the effect was slightly ruined as he kept on saying stupid things like: 'Sun's out today Tosh, nice change huh?'

And then she ran off to cry to Teaboy in the archives.

He decided to make the contents of Gwen's bag his main focus today, because there was nothing to perform an autopsy on yet and he had no intention of doing paperwork.

"So how old are the members of your club? Fifteen or thirteen?" He smirked. Gwen growled and reached into her bag, gripping the object he was mocking tightly.

The doctor had to duck to avoid the first book in the 'Twilight' saga.

It fell on the floor and he practically jumped on it, dropping it next to his foot so the when Gwen tried to get it back he was in a perfect spot to threaten her hand with his shoe.

He grinned and told Gwen that he was going to take the book home to keep his desk from wobbling, but not because he wanted to read it. Of course not. He just wanted to piss Gwen off. And it worked for a while, but eventually she muttered something about going right ahead and taking it, she was on the next one anyway.

So if, in a fit of boredom, he picked up the book from the floor and flipped through, there was no way it was his fault. Hell no. It was a lack of things to do.

And if he stayed up late that night (three in the morning maybe?) and finished it off, it wasn't because he loved the way it was written and some of the plot. Nope, not possible. It was because Owen Harper had a compulsion to finish what he started. This excuse also worked when he went out and bought the second one.

But that's when he started getting a bit more into it. Sure, Bella was about as exciting and three-dimensional as a stick of butter. Yes, Edward and how 'perfect' he was got very annoying (Seriously, did she have _any_ other explanative in her vocabulary?). And of _course _Jacob and his love triangle was worth a shot to the head. But it wasn't _too_ bad.

So he decided after the third one to stop. It was really ridiculous to go through this much trouble just to have something to mock Gwen with. And his resolve lasted for about three days when, while absentmindedly browsing the internet to stop himself from imagining what he and Gwen were going to do later, he somehow managed to type in 'Breaking Dawn Spoilers'. Up popped the information that Bella was going to have a baby.

He went out and bought _Breaking Dawn_ on his lunch.

The next day he sat in his car and finished it up. No one could see what he was doing on the CCTV and he didn't feel like defending himself to the rest of the team if they caught him. But just as he finished the last page he heard the radio announcer say that Twilight The Movie was in the midst of being filmed.

When November rolled around, he divided his time between doing autopsies on aliens, listening to Gwen rant about her wedding and looking up the projected date for Twilight's release while arguing with himself about whether or not going was a good idea.

So if he went to the movie and sat in the front row, surrounded by people three heads shorter then him while on the screen Edward screeched to a halt in his Volvo and commanded a horribly acted Bella to 'Get In', it was only because he wanted to be sure he finished what he started. And that was what he told himself over and over again. That, and this would give him plenty more ammo to make fun of Gwen.

It was a good thing he didn't see Jack, Ianto, Gwen and Tosh sitting three rows behind him and four seats to the side, all laughing hysterically with their eyes on the doctor, hands thrown over their mouths to muffle the giggles.

Doctor Owen Harper- The Twilight Saga


	6. John Hart

This Chapter (and all Chapters about John) were kind of a commission for my LOVE-LEH beta. HEY KT, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU! It's based off of this quote form Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang.

**Jack: So, how was rehab?  
****John: Rehabs. Plural.  
****Jack: Drink, drugs, sex and ...?  
****John: Murder.**

* * *

**Rating: T- Language, mentions of violence  
Warnings: Like I said Above. Also, I know a lot of people just skip over the stuff in bold, but I have a confession…. IT'S BOLD FOR A REASON!  
Pairings: John/ OFC(Alien) Mention.  
Spoilers: Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang.**

* * *

He had discovered the true joys of drinking at the tender age of fifteen.

Sure, then it wasn't called fifteen. And yes, his name had been something other then Captain John Hart. It was just the name he used these days, when he spent more of his time in centuries and that hadn't yet converted to Rothmasla. It was actually nice, because 'one, two, three.' Was easier then 'Blaksa, bot'sam, katowr.' And his real name had always been hard to pronounce, even by 51st century standards.

Not to mention that in the throes of passion 'John' was a lot sexier.

Anyway, on the night of his birthday, when his brother and sister were asleep and his mother had headed to her own bedroom, his father had snuck into his room and shook him away.

"Come one boy." He said, voice lowered so he wouldn't wake up the rest of the family. "Time to have a drink with your old man."

His father had been a huge bear of a ban, with the same piercing blue eyes he had passed on to his children and a pair of familiar high cheekbones. John had gotten that dark drown hair from his mother, not to mention his sculpted nose and mouth, because his father's features where blunt and inelegant. Just the cheekbones and eyes, which had been enough for his mother.

They had tip toed down the stairs, his father beaming with pride, Until they got down to the lowest level of their part of the complex. His father was the owner of the small colony, so they got the best 'Apartment'.

His father had handed over three drinks. A shot of old-school tequila (Which was a rarity, because it was hard to find limes in those days), a shot of Whiskey and a bottle of the finest brew from the Morsants colony.

This was all before he had been 'discovered' by the Time Agency, so he was a lightweight and drunk before he finished the beer his dad had handed him. Which made his father laugh and take another drink, then help him up the stairs so he could collapse on his own bed.

John sat in the bar, smiling at the memory, one of the ones he cherished the most with his big, brooding father that had been so fucking proud when he got into the Time Agency and more proud when he was selected as a trainer. He was staring dreamily off into the distance, eyes fixed on a point over the bar.

"Eh. Mate!"

John turned that perfect face of his slightly to the right to see a tall, slightly unattractive man standing above him, face the colour of a beet.

"You fucking staring at me, queer?!" The man seemed to inflate, and he was reminded of that movie where the guy turned green and smashed up a bunch of tanks. At the beginning, a toad or something inflated until explosion. He wondered if he waited long enough the same would happen to this guy.

"Absolutely not." John said, trying to sound higher class. "I was clearly staring at your friend."

The blow wasn't totally unexpected, but it was painful. So he grabbed the hand that had just connected with his jaw and sighed. "Mate, I think you just bruised me."

A quick movement from his hand broke the man's wrist clean in half, and he grinned. Then he stood up, swaying slightly.

"The French, are GLLLLAAAADDD TOOOO diiiiieeeeee…. FOR LOOOOOOVEEEEE!" He sang, off key and slurring 'French' to the point that if sounded a bit like 'Freansssssshhhh'. A woman gave him a scandalized look, then turned back to her girlfriend and went back to talking about…. Shoes. Or something.

He approached her, slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Aw hunnoyy, don't- don't be like thasssst!" He grinned at the two girls, trying to put his most charming smile on. Unfortunately, while he might still be incredibly handsome and a fucking amazing fighter while completely wasted, he wasn't the best charmer.

"We could have a great—What issss that?" He blinked at the small, black spray bottle she held in one hand, squinted at it. Which was a bad idea, because-

"ARAGGGGHHHH!" He screamed and threw his hands over his eyes, scrubbing at them and forcing the mace a little deeper. "WHAT THE FUCK!?!?"

"Courtesy of Maria Attleson, asshole." The woman said, then her and the friend stepped over his withering form on their way out the door. He made a mental note (while struggling to climb onto the bar stool to beg for some water) To kill something 'Maria Attleson' loved. Maybe a cat.

The bartender helped him wash out his eyes and asked if he wanted him to call an ambulance, just to make sure that there was no lasting damage.

John Hart just ordered another Tequila shot and seriously considered going back to his time, where even if you hit on an attractive person while drunk there were always three more people, more drunk then you, hanging off your arm. The twenty-first century was too weird for him.

He wondered if Six-legs Cindy was still on Mrthan twelve, and smiled dreamily.

Captain John Hart- Drink


	7. Suzie Costello

**Rating: T-For some sexual situations and some language  
****Warnings: Post-series.  
****Pairings: Suzie/Owen  
****Spoilers: Right up until 'They Keep Killing Suzie', including a bit of Cyberwoman.

* * *

**Suzie loved to party.

Sure, pilgrim was great and all for finding an innocent subject to test brainwashing theories on, but a random bar with a random guy was something that freed her from the job.

Never did she kid herself that she would be able to get _truly_ free from Torchwood, or Jack, or sleeping with Owen and ignoring Toshiko's desperate looks. She didn't try to pretend that helping Ianto with his cyber girlfriend and hooking him up with the name of that specialist disappeared once she hit the dance floor. But it faded away to the point that she could shove it into the back of her mind and forget about it for a while. She'd get all dolled up, find an outfit worth of Brittany Spears and head out on the town. She considered this her night off.

And then came the glove. Jack had walked over to her and put a hand on one shoulder, smiling when she whirled around.

"Want to see something neat?" He had asked, and she couldn't help the nod of her head.

They walked to his office, where a large metal box with two glass sides sat innocently on his desk. He walked over to it and unlocked the heavy metal padlock, opening the to reverently.

What he pulled out was a glove from a suit of armour, heavy steel that glittered in the dim light. Suzie felt her eyes widen. For a moment, just a second, she totally forgot about Torchwood. This glove was something big.

Jack was watching her with narrowed eyes, a tiny smile flirting over his face.

"What… What is it?" She wanted to reach out and touch it, but couldn't bring her fingers up. Jack slid the glove over his hand and walked over to the corner, taking out another box that looked like an aquarium. In it laid Scrabby, Owen's experiment rat that had died that morning from unknown causes (unknown meaning Owen didn't want to tell anyone about what he'd been doing). She watched in awe as Jack took his gloved hand and brushed a metal finger against the soft fur.

His eyes drifted closed, his face a mask of seriousness, and seconds later she gave a tiny scream and nearly fell over. Scrabby was sitting up, the metal still touching his plump little white body. He chittered in her direction, cleaning his face with both paws.

Jack grunted, pulled his hand back, and the large rat (That Suzie had always been afraid of) paused in its movement and then pitched over. Jack sighed and looked at the glove, slowly taking it off.

"I never could do it very well." He said quietly, seeming to reflect on something from long ago. He broke out of his memory and grinned at her, holding out the armoured hand. Suzie timidly took it.

"How did it get here?" She whispered, in awe of what she had just seen.

Jack told her.

And she went home, dressed up in her best clothes, straightened her hair and went to her favourite bar. She grabbed a man, sexy but nervous, and tried to forget about Torchwood.

And for the first time in a long time, it didn't work. Torchwood filled her brain, the glove spun around in her thoughts. She grinded against the guy (Matt? Mark?) with increased vitality. The feeling of body against body, of trying so hard to forget. But it wasn't working out too well. Because all she could see was a fat white rat standing up and shaking off death.

The possibilities filled her to the brim. Bringing back the dead, could it really be possible? Could she be the one to cure death? It was crazy, but then again, this was Torchwood.

Torchwood, the place that picked up all the alien crap that floated through the rift, things that didn't matter to their owners anymore or had been stolen. Those negative energy spikes she had been seeing after studying Tosh's rift archives said the rift took things too; but she couldn't find herself caring. Maybe, at that moment, in another time on another planet, there may perhaps be something like her bemoaning that they only got the shit of other galaxies while holding a I-pod Nano with no battery life left.

She came home smelling like sweat, cigarette smoke and sex. She debated calling Owen and telling him about what happened, maybe inviting him over for a drink or two, but ended up just getting undressed and falling into bed.

She didn't sleep. She felt the excitement of a new discovery flooding though her mind. She could be the next great inventor. She could save people the pain and suffering that death caused. She could stop anther little girl from screaming in the school hallway because her mother's been murdered.

Tonight would be her last 'Night off'. From now on she would work on the glove.

She would solve the greatest equation of all.

Suzie Costello-Partying


	8. Toshiko Sato The Second

**Rating: PG  
****Warnings: Just some fun.  
****Pairings: Hint of Owen/Tosh, Tosh/Jack Friendship  
****Spoilers: None really.**

**

* * *

**

Tosh was sitting in the archives, where she went whenever being alone was a necessity, when Gwen and Owen were flirting to the point that Tosh being uncomfortable was a normal, constant thing, or when Jack was bellowing out at people because things weren't getting done. Even when Ianto, with his constantly pleasant face but disturbingly sad eyes was cleaning everything in his efficient little way. She would venture into the dusty lower bowels of Torchwood, trying not to sneeze in her cute little way, and reach in to where she hid it.

Each one was different, yet glaringly the same. They were all books, all of the same genre, and each had the same cover with tiny variations.

A well-muscled man with flowing blonde (black, brown) hair, standing in front of a romantically cliché location. Most of the time he was cradling a skinny and well-proportioned redhead (blonde, brunette) in his horribly muscular arms. The script on the front was always a flowery, cursive writing. Something out of the times where you used a quill and ink and you damn well liked it. The sexual tension would be practically visible between them, like a red haze that floated between two bodies.

Her face would either be in a set look of defiance or a swooning expression of bobble-headed bliss. His would be masculine and broody, the look of someone who was stepping on a thumbtack and trying to hide it. And yet they were such a great escape that she couldn't help but read them.

Yes, she admitted to herself and anyone who asked that they were trashy and had no real literary value besides the fact that they tried to describe sex in a way that was accurate, tasteful and arousing. But she loved reading them because by changing a few adjectives the heroine, who was usually unwilling to give it up so easy and yet confused because she was so damn attracted to the hero, became a short but slightly pretty Japanese woman who was good with maths and great at anything technologically inclined. She was the one being perused by a fabulous bad boy on a Harley; she was the girl refusing the advances of a stunningly gorgeous millionaire because even though she was poor, she had her pride.

She wasn't the shy wallflower staring off into space so ignoring the man she loved and the new girl was easier then watching them paw each other. She wasn't the woman who had last been kissed by an alien who had burnt up in the sun; she wasn't the one who dreamed about that one kiss at Christmas because of well-placed mistletoe.

She wasn't alone, she wasn't afraid, and she got laid on a regular basis.

And that fantasy was all she really wanted. And the courting, the slow and eventually seduction of the heroine (who by now was combating her attraction to the hero with all the vigour of a wounded tiger[ess]) felt good, because when she escaped to a tale of Blade and Emily trying to buy the same ranch for personal reasons and ending up buying it together because they were so totally in love, it wasn't long until she forgot that she wasn't all that important. She felt special.

She would pull her book out of it's hiding place, which was an unused file from the 1950's about a man who had been shot on Torchwood premises. If was obscenely thick, so no one noticed the bit of extra bulge. When the book was thicker then usually she would shove it in between two files, and no one would be able to tell the difference.

Tosh would lean against the wall and slide down, book cradled in her palms, open to her spot and read until her beeper went off for some sort of technological emergency ('Owen spilt Coffee on your keyboard!' 'Jack pressed a button on that thing we found last week , and it looks like it's counting down, think you can take a look?' 'Ianto's arm is stuck in the printer!') It might be fifteen minutes, might be half an hour, but eventually, someone would figure out she wasn't in the hub.

Someone knew about her secret though.

She had been finding romance novels in random places all over the Hub, Dog-eared and yellow-paged, some older then she was and some brand new. They would be placed under her coffee mug, sitting on her desk chair, face down. Resting casually on one of the experiments she was running on the side. But she had no idea who it was. All she knew was that it was someone in The Hub knew when her books were on their last pages, and that someone was quite good at erasing CCTV for certain periods.

So Toshiko Sato was content to lose herself in the stories that her secret book provider left for her, and dream that maybe they read them for the same reasons. Which is why she never asked any her friends if it was them. She liked the mystery.

________________________________________________________________________

"Sir?"

Jack turned from his office window, where Toshiko had just picked up a bright pink book from in between her monitor and the leg of the desk with a smile. He grinned and took a drink of the steaming coffee in his hands.

"Yes Ianto?" He walked to his desk and sat in his chair, one he'd had to replace countless times before. The attractive Welshman was sanding with a plastic bag in one hand and his windbreaker in the other. His face was flushed from the cold.

"I got the things you asked for." He smiled and put the bag on Jack's desk, dropping the coat on the chair opposite and rubbing his hands together to warm them. He shuddered but was still smiling. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Jack shook his head and grabbed the bag, rummaging through. Beef Jerky, more printing paper, staples, His list for shopping (in Ianto's no-nonsense handwriting), and finally, 'Blood and water' The book he'd been waiting for.

"I can't believe you actually read those." Ianto griped while Jack settled back, feet swinging up to rest on his desk.

Jack grinned at him and opened the book to page one.

Toshiko Sato-Romance Novels


	9. Jack Harkness The Second

A/N-So it's been an awful long time, hasn't it? I've been busy but I know that's no excuse. This might not be one of my better ones, it was kinda rushed and un-betaed, but it was inspired and got very sad at the end there. For me anyway. No real spoilers on this one. Please enjoy!

**Rating-T, just to be safe.**  
**Pairing-Hinted Janto, Gwen/Rhys.**  
**Spoilers-None.**

* * *

He wandered the brightly lit aisles quietly, wondering what grocery shopping was like during the day. He never had time to try anymore, always so busy saving the world from disgruntled aliens and possibly explosive technology. So he felt resigned to shopping for the essentials later at night, after everyone went home but before the shops were closed.

Jack would sometimes get the odd look from someone who was probably doing the same as him, in his old-fashioned coat and suspenders. Usually, though, people looked through him. Some were clearly on some sort of drug, others just looked too drained and tired to notice and care. He sometimes felt the same way, like he was living every day of his life for no reason, just waiting for his eventual end. Then he'd call Ianto and make that feeling go away.

He smiled a little at that and pulled a jar of salsa off the nearby shelf, glancing at the brand before placing the glass carefully into his cart and continuing on. Ianto needed more coffee filters, Gwen had asked for some oranges for tomorrow because Rhys always chose sour ones and she didn't have the heart to tell him. Owen wanted chocolate, which he figured Owen could buy himself. Tosh never asked for anything, really. He wondered why.

He was walking past the bulk foods area when he saw them, sandwiched between a bin of candy necklaces and a bin of refreshers. He grinned.

He scooped a bunch into one of the clear plastic bags with that same grin plastered on his face, writing the number for the cashier on a little piece of paper before placing them into his buggy, where the child seat was. The bright colours melding into one another along each individual length. Orange into red, green into yellow. He couldn't wait to get home.

When he got to the cashier she gave him an odd look, seeming to judge him with her eyes. He was too pleased with his treat to care about her and was pratically bouncing when he got into the car, pulling the bag out with a flourish before fumbling with the knot.

He popped one of the delicious gummies into his mouth and chewed. Gummy worms. Something that would last all the way to the 51st century and remain fundamentally unchanged, though they would be renamed Haribo worms. Just like Haribo bears, which he didn't like as much and weren't nearly as satisfying to eat.

Gummy worms were far more entertaining in his mind. He could suck on half and make it thin and shiny while giggling the entire time, or bite off its 'head' and be very satisfied at the unnecessary violence. Sometimes he would twirl it around his fingers, stretching it to almost twice its size, and then let go, watching it slowly shrink back into itself with a smile. Other times he would try to swallow it hole. He had died once doing that and freaked Owen out, but it had been worth it to see the doctor's face when he came to.

He grabbed another one and tried to suck it into his mouth through pursed lips, but it was too dry and he ended up just chewing it normally. He laughed to himself at how these things would change in the future. One in a bag, three feet long and not recommended for small children. They also became modeled after the sandworms of Vaticus 1, with heads full of gummy fangs and gummy spikes decorating their tails. It was also nigh-impossible to finish one.

He drove home, occasionally reaching into the rustling bag to grab another one. By the time he got to the hub the bag was half empty, and he couldn't help feeling a little sad. He always did things too fast. Well, almost always.

Jack took off his coat and tossed it on his office chair before journeying into his freezer and rummaging around for a few minutes, cursing aloud in the otherwise silent hub. He pulled out a carton of chocolate ice cream with a triumphant whoop and proceeded to dish it out with the largest spoon he had that wasn't a ladle.

He took a handful of gummy worms and stuck them on top, watching them slowly slide down the ice cream mountion with a charming and boyish smile. He practically bounced his way to the couch and flicked through the channels.

He settled on a primetime movie he'd seen before and enjoyed, some mindless action flick heavy on explosions and swearing. The ice cream seemed to make the movie that much more engaging, and he felt more then happy, he felt exhilarated. This was what life was about, wasn't it? Joy. Stopping to enjoy the small things in life, the things that brought back happy memories.

Feeling all of those petty emotions the humans felt, taking solace in the moments of delight and sorrow, knowing that the feelings meant he was still…

Still alive. Still breathing and existing and learning. Figuring out more about himself and those that surrounded him every day. Gwen didn't want to tell her husband he chose bad oranges. Owen liked chocolate as a snack. Tosh didn't want to bother anyone, Ianto knew his way around a stopwatch. Suzie had been obsessive about nearly everything and he really shouldn't have been surprised. And these lessons, if they were good or bad, gave him a little bit of hope.

So he watched his movie and munched on his gummy worms, laughing a little too loudly at the funny parts and enjoying the sweetness as much as he could. Ignoring the silence around him. Pushing back the knowledge that everyone he knew would die as he watched on, unflinching. Weddings, funerals, births and lives. All gone in the blink of an eye or the wave of a hand.

He wondered if the lessons he learnt in the future would be any less difficult.

Jack Harkness-Gummy worms.


	10. Gwen Cooper The Second

**Rating: E  
****Warnings: None  
Pairings: Mentions of Jack/Ianto, Jack-Gwen friendship  
****Spoilers: None really?  
Summary: Gwen takes the day off.  
Notes: I wrote a fic that isn't Gwen-Bashing. OH MY GOD!**

* * *

When she picked up the phone and dialled Jack's cell it was with a tiny thrill in her heart. She cleared her throat and went over what she would say in her head. The phone rang once, twice, and was halfway through the third ring when Jack picked up.

"Hello Gwen." Jack sounded a little out of breath, and she wondered what Jack had been doing when she rang.

"Jack." Her voice was scratchy and tired sounding, and she mentally congratulated herself on sounding as sick as possible.

"Gwen, you sound awful." She heard a smashing sound and Ianto apologizing in the background. Jack chuckled a little.

"Yeah, I think I may have come down with a head cold. Do you mind if I skip out on today, get some sleep?" She tried to sound as pathetic as possible. "I mean, if you need me to come in I will, I was just hoping—"

"No way Gwen." Jack cut her off, and she stifled a giggle as there was another crashing sound on the other end. "I don't want you here if you're sick, take all the time you need. I'm sure we can hold down the fort while you're gone." Ianto said something she didn't quite catch and Jack laughed. "Naughty boy…"

"Okay. I'll see if I can get in tomorrow."

"No problem Gwen, feel better."

She hung up and immediately did a little happy dance, flipping her long brown hair over one shoulder and striking a pose of victory.

The hairbrush in her hand was the perfect fake microphone, and she gyrated her hips enthusiastically as she bopped around the apartment. The speakers pounded out a drum solo that she couldn't help loving right away. Life was good. She had the whole day to herself, the flat was empty and she could do whatever she wanted. And right now, she wanted to dance.

She leaped onto the living room table and thrust her arms into the air, waving them slowly before running her fingers down over her chest. Each new drumbeat coaxed a head bob, each screaming guitar rift made her grin.

She pressed a few buttons on the remote and smiled as her Pay Per View menu came up on the screen and thumbed through them, looking for something the suited her fancy. A bright red bowl of popcorn sat on her lap, smelling deliciously of butter and salt.

She'd thrown on her most comfortable pair of flannel pyjama pants, the red and pink plaid nicely offsetting her grey tank top. Her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun with a few strands escaping and framing her face. She didn't bother with makeup or a bra, who was looking at her? No one!

She chose a romantic comedy and ordered it, grinning and settling down to watch contentedly.

The adorable couple shared a final kiss on screen, and Gwen smiled a little as she got up and stretched her arms above her head. She walked to the kitchen and began rooting around in the fridge for something to eat. She came up with leftover pizza and that was good enough for her.

She sat back down in front of the television and started watching a random Japanese game show she's caught a few times, laughing at the ridiculous things the participants had to do. The set was bright green and blue, and a young woman was struggling to climb up a rope while being pelted with giant foam balls.

"I could do that." Gwen said to no one in particular, and took a large bite of pizza.

The next day she walked into the hub, smiling at Jack when he noticed her.

"So you're feeling better?" He sipped a cup of coffee, lips pursed. She smiled a little at him.

"Much. I just needed a long nap and a lot of fluids. I'm a little scratchy but I felt worlds better this morning." She grabbed herself a cup of Ianto's steaming brew, watching the lazy tendrils of steam with interest. Jack clapped a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm glad you feel better. The place isn't the same without you."

She beamed at him and took another sip of coffee as the others walked in.


End file.
